


What a Wicked Way to Treat the Boy that Loves You

by jellybeanforest



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cap-Ironman Bingo, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Insecurity, M/M, Misunderstandings, Strange Vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21517132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellybeanforest/pseuds/jellybeanforest
Summary: After both forget their four-year anniversary, Tony Stark is insecure about the state of his relationship to Steve Rogers. Adding insult to injury, Steve has been acting strangely all week, so when he takes his boyfriend to dinner, Tony just knows he’s planning to break up with him in a public space to prevent him from causing a scene. Well, if the asshole thinks that (1) Tony is prone to post-breakup dramatics, (2) witnesses are a full-proof way to prevent said dramatics, and (3) Tony isn’t going to beat him to the punch, then maybe Steve never really knew Tony that well to begin with.For the Cap-IronMan Bingo 2019 Round 2 – Strange Vibes.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 400
Collections: Captain America/Iron Man Bingo





	What a Wicked Way to Treat the Boy that Loves You

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Beyonce’s song, “Hold Up.” Also, for those who are waiting, I’m halfway done with the conclusion of “Pillow Talk,” but just wanted to throw this out there to keep up with my Stony Bingo progress.

Steve and Tony are in the kitchen, having a lazy Sunday afternoon with Steve doing the morning crossword in pen while Tony reviews new specs for yet another Iron Man upgrade, when Clint ambles in looking sleepy and disheveled.

He yawns and stretches, arching his back like a cat. “Happy anniversary, you two,” he says, smacking his lips and massaging his slack jawline down his neck to his chest to shake the remains of lethargy from his body. “I can’t believe it’s been four years, you know.”

Steve looks up from his crossword, his eyes wide with surprise and a touch of fear. “Oh um, yes. Our anniversary. It has been four years, hasn’t it?” The pen in his hand snaps, spurting ink over his unfinished grid. He doesn’t notice.

But neither does Clint. “Yep,” he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Thought you guys wouldn’t last four months, but that just goes to show what I know, huh?” He takes a sip before leaving to crawl back whence he came, having unwittingly wreaked havoc on his fellow residents.

Steve and Tony stare at each other, completely bewildered, apprehensive.

Tony is the first to speak. “Okay, so judging by the look on your face… if both of us forgot, which one of us is in trouble?”

* * *

“It was awful, honey bear. A disaster!” Tony commiserates with his best friend later during a video-call patched through his emergency line, the one reserved for when the Avengers compound is under attack or if Tony is dying again.

Rhodey cants his head to the side. “Wait. You’re saying Steve ‘Photographic Memory’ Rogers also forgot?”

“Yes!”

“Well, then that cancels it out,” he shrugs, completely missing the point. “It’s not that surprising. You’ve been busy with the launch of SI’s newest green energy initiative. Steve is in covert ops. Not to mention, you’re both doing the world-saving bit with the Avengers on the side. It just slipped your minds.”

Tony interlaces his fingers behind his neck and stretches, face turned up in frustration before dropping back to eye level. “Don’t you see? That makes it worse! What if… what if Steve is getting tired of me? I’m not the easiest person to date. What if he realizes he can do better–”

Rhodey raises a brow. “Better than a genius billionaire philanthropist?”

“We both know Steve doesn’t care about that.”

“Do we? Because I thought the philanthropy thing really got him going, considering it’s charity and all.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “He knows about the tax write-off,” so obviously not so selfless, “And this is serious, Rhodey. What if he has the seven-year itch?”

“Hasn’t it only been four years?”

“I’ve always been ahead of the curve. Four years with me is like seven. At least.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Rhodey says rationally. “Steve is not going to break up with you because the spark is more like a gentle warmth these days.”

Tony throws up his hands. “Whoa. Back up. Who said anything about breaking up? Breaking up is not on the table,” he says with conviction before deflating slightly, “Is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Then why did you say it?” he presses.

“I said he isn’t going to.”

“Which means you are thinking it is a possibility.”

Rhodey sighs. “Tony. Stop. Only an idiot would break up with _the_ Tony Stark, and is Steve an idiot?”

“No, but neither was Pepper.”

“You know that was different.”

“I didn’t prioritize her, and she left. Now the same thing is happening with Steve,” Tony reasons, one hand palming his chin and fingers dancing over his lips in thought. “I can’t lose him, honey bear.”

“You aren’t going to,” Rhodey tries to reassure him, “But maybe… if you’re that concerned–”

“I am.”

“Maybe you can try to spice up your relationship a little. Fly him to Paris for the weekend,” he suggests.

“Nope. Did that the first year, and Batroc the Leaper broke out of prison and crashed the party. It was a whole thing, an ‘international incident.’ How could anyone forget that?”

“Bali?”

Tony shakes his head. “Mosquitoes ate him, and he got major sunburn. Like a category five sunburn.”

“Doesn’t he heal really fast?”

“Yes, but it was an uncomfortable two hours, and then the peeling. So much peeling. He was like a snake shedding its skin.”

“Okay, didn’t need the details.”

But Tony doesn’t stop there. “I could have made a Steve skin coat or maybe a pair of boots.”

“Didn’t need the visual, either,” Rhodey closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “Look, you’re a genius. I’m sure you can think of something.”

“What if it’s already too late?” Tony says, visibly concerned.

“Are we still talking about the same Steve Rogers? The man who gives you unlimited chances, including that time you forgot he is allergic to nuts. That Steve Rogers?”

“I knew there was a connection between him and nuts. Don’t I get credit for remembering that much?”

“Tones, he’s not going to leave you.”

But Tony remains unconvinced. “Every man has a breaking point, and maybe Steve is closing in on his.”

“Impossible,” Rhodey insists. “He loves you.”

“Yeah, but for how long?”

* * *

It’s a question that weighs heavily on Tony. How long will Steve put up with his shenanigans, the late nights and night terrors? Steve can have anyone, someone younger, someone conscientious and more virtuous like himself, someone less damaged, less jaded. How long before he looks at Tony and realizes he just isn’t worth the trouble?

Tony is heading towards the Avengers common area, when he overhears Natasha in the living room.

“I think you should talk to him first. Just springing it on him like this… it might not go well,” she says.

Tony pauses, holding off on turning that last corner.

He hears Steve’s voice. “But how would I even bring it up in a casual conversation without him freaking out?”

“It really isn’t that complicated. It’s been four years already. Stark should know this day is coming,” Natasha reassures him, “I’m actually surprised it hasn’t happened sooner, to be frank with you.”

 _Et tu, Nat?_ Tony thinks. Did no one believe in their relationship? Even Natasha thought Steve should have grown weary of Tony long ago.

“Did you make the arrangements?” she continues, lowering her voice.

“Yeah, I’m going to do it this Saturday… take him somewhere nice.”

So that’s it. This Saturday is the day Steve will break his heart, maybe over a nice bottle of wine so Tony can get started right away on his standard post-breakup protocol. Tony can hardly believe Steve would do such a thing _in public_ no less, as if he is afraid Tony will make a scene or possibly physically hurt Steve in retaliation. Did Steve really think so little of him and his emotional fortitude?

“Wouldn’t you rather do it in private?” Natasha asks.

_Yes. Wouldn’t that be better, Steven Grant Rogers?_

But he demurs. “No, I’ve already got it all planned out.”

That’s so like his future ex-boyfriend. Always a plan for everything: the first date, the seduction, the trajectory of their entire relationship, and finally their inevitable breakup. A neat little bookend concluding their story.

Tony isn’t about to take this lying down.

* * *

Steve acts strangely the entire week leading up to their own personal D-Day, the day he plans to ambush Tony with a swift, merciless breakup.

He returns late from his morning runs, long after Tony’s attempts at breakfast have gone cold. Sure, Steve claims he was trying out a new route or had to help exceptionally old and decrepit ladies – who were likely younger than him – across the street or something similarly altruistic, but Tony conveniently cannot corroborate any of it.

Tony even tried gifting Steve with a ridiculously-oversized, custom-made teddy bear wearing Captain America regalia.

“…How did you even get it on the elevator?” Steve asks, stepping up to the bear overlooking their bed. “Would that even fit in the service elevator?”

“I had it air-lifted and pulled in through the hangar, but that’s not important. What’s important is how much you like it.”

“I love how much thought you put into it, but… Does it have to be in our bedroom? I mean, it’ll be watching us at _all_ times.”

_Since when has Steve been so shy around inanimate objects?_

“Fine. I’ll make him a blindfold,” Tony says, grabbing one of his extra-long scarves and just barely managing to tie it around the bear’s head. “See?”

And then there’s the laptop situation. Tony had gotten him one and showed him how to use it, but now every time Tony enters the room, Steve quickly closes it and diverts all conversation away from his online activities.

“What are you looking up there, Cap?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Steve says much too quickly before deflecting, “Hey, did you get a new haircut? Looks nice.”

Tony had been experimenting with a fluffier style and is low-key annoyed at himself at how pleased he is that Steve noticed. His main focus should be the fact that his boyfriend is being sneaky and inattentive to the point of distraction. Tony is clearly losing him.

Of course, Steve still tells him he loves him, and they still have sex, but he declines all Tony’s invitations to be whisked away on last-ditch mid-week romantic getaways, citing things like “work” and “responsibilities,” as if Tony didn’t have a private plane and enough money for Steve to quit his day job to travel with him, his only duty being to provide endless orgasms.

So really, how is Tony expected to get them back on track as a couple if Steve is so resistant to his many efforts?

* * *

“Okay Natasha, what is Steve planning tonight?” Tony finally asks her Saturday morning, while she is training in the gym and Steve is on one of his extended ‘runs.’

She’s stretching out her calves, showing off her impressive flexibility. “What? Dinner?”

“Nat, I know. I know it’s not just dinner,” he counters, crossing his arms. “Steve has been very shifty lately, and you know what’s up with him. So, out with it.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she says coolly, leaning into the stretch. He supposes he should have expected as much, with her being the epitome of discretion and squarely in Steve’s corner if it came down to a choice between the two of them. Still–

“It’s just… how can he do this to me? I thought we were doing well exactly as we are, and now he wants to–” Tony starts, his voice breaking. He steps back to cover his eyes and take a steadying breath. “Look, I’m not going to make a scene. I just wish he’d talk to me about it first, you know. It’s been four years, and we’re both adults here. He doesn’t have to do it this way.”

Natasha gives him a long stare before getting back to her pre-workout warm-up. “Perhaps this is a conversation you should be having with Steve.”

“I’ve been trying, but success is limited.” Tony isn’t one to beg, but he had hoped to sway Steve from his predetermined path via gifts and offers of extended vacations, but the man remains unresponsive to all his efforts.

“Look, Steve is a reasonable guy. You can always say no, then nothing has to change.”

Like a ‘no-thank-you’ has ever worked in the history of breakups. Stalking laws exist for a reason.

“…I don’t think that’s going to work.”

She gazes up at him, squinting her eyes in confusion before her face smooths out to a neutral expression. “I think you’d be pleasantly surprised.”

* * *

The appointed time arrives, and Steve seems unaccountably happy, escorting Tony to the restaurant like an executioner leading his victim to the gallows. It’s a nice place, classy and romantic, which… wow, Steve sure knew how to twist the knife. Tony had never pegged him as an emotional sadist, but recent evidence is overwhelming.

Once they are seated and menus distributed, Tony orders the most expensive entrée on the menu – a Wagyu ribeye – along with a matching bottle of red.

Their conversation is stilted, marked by long stretches of silence punctuated by Steve’s failed attempts at easy banter. Tony has to give Steve credit – the man tries and doesn’t give up even in the face of Tony’s acerbic rejoinders – but Tony is simply not in the mood to play house until the bitter end.

“I’m sorry if I’ve seemed a little distracted this week, Tony,” Steve tries again, after Tony has shut him down for the fifth time. “I’ve just been a bit busy, but I’m glad to be here with you tonight. I love you, sweetheart.”

“Uh huh,” Tony takes another gulp from his glass. “I’m sure you do.”

_Liar._

When the food arrives, Tony takes exactly one bite of his steak and pours himself a third generous glass of wine, tipping the bottle upside down and shaking it to get that very last drop.

Steve eyes his behavior with concern. “Tony, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Steve. Amazing, really,” Tony says in a tone that indicates he is anything but. “All I need to be happy in life is a decent wine cellar, and I’m set.” He doesn’t need love or stupid super-soldiers who don’t know a good thing if it fucks them in the ass.

(Or however the saying goes.)

“It’s just… you’re not eating,” Steve points out. _And you’re drinking like a fish_ goes unsaid.

Tony dismisses his concerns. “I’m eating. You saw me. I chewed and swallowed and everything.” The real question is who _can_ eat at a time like this? Steve should get off his back. It’s not every day his boyfriend dumps him in public because he can’t trust him to act like an adult who has suffered through hundreds of these situations before. Who does Steve think he is that Tony would crumble at the dissolution of their relationship?

“Are you not feeling well?” Steve continues, “We don’t have to stay. I can take you home and make you some nice warm milk or tea with honey? You probably shouldn’t drink coffee so late. It’s not good for you, sweetheart.”

Tony will miss him. No one else takes care of him like Steve.

“No, I’m fine,” Tony reiterates. They might as well get this over with. Truth be told, he’s not sure what’s taking Steve so long. Perhaps he’s waiting until after dinner, when he’s already settled the check so they won’t have to sit in awkward silence waiting for their waiter to process payment before going their separate ways: Tony to the Avengers compound and Steve… also to the compound, he supposes. Though perhaps Tony should call his own private car so he won’t have to ride back with the man who broke his heart.

And then it occurs to him. Why should Steve be the one to end it? Why must Tony suffer through his boyfriend’s reasons as to why they have to end, his detailing of Tony’s faults, particularly since Tony himself has his own list of grievances to air as well as the liquid courage to do so?

So, when Steve settles the bill and the waiter brings around a pre-ordered bottle of champagne – _Really, Steve?_ – with the first round popped and poured, Tony, fortified by wine and bitterness, pounces on the opportunity to speak first.

“I bet you think you’re so hot, Mr. Perfect with your perfect hair and perfect face and perfect muscles,” Tony rambles as Steve raises a brow at his demeanor. Steve subtly tilts his head, eyes focused on the fine print advertising the alcohol content of the bottle Tony had been partaking from all evening.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Sometimes I want to punch you in your perfect teeth.”

“Tony, you’re drunk,” Steve says reasonably. “Perhaps this isn’t the time–”

“Oh and when is it ever a good time?” Tony hisses, keeping his voice low because he is not yet fortieth-birthday-drunk. “Why does everything always have to be on your terms, with no compromise, eh Cap?”

Steve frowns. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m just sick of it, alright? I’m sick of always havin’ to bend your way, ‘cause you’re the team leader. You may be the best among us, but that don’t mean I don’t contribute.”

“You do plenty, Tony. We couldn’t do this without you. I couldn’t do what I do without you–”

“Because I’m the piggy bank? You’re the boss, and I just pay for everything and design everything and make everyone look cooler–”

“You’re a valuable member of the team,” Steve states, and he even sounds sincere, “You’re smart, quick-thinking. You’re always seeing things I miss–”

“Yeah, I do, don’t I? I see the big picture, but you’re always overruling me. Orders come from the top, and the rest of us are just expected to jump.” Tony leans in, index finger tapping the table to accentuate his point. “Well, not anymore, Cap. I’m tired of being taken for granted, and if you can’t see how amazing I am and what a great partner I can be for you, then I’m not going to sit here and try to convince you. I’m Tony fuckin’ Stark, and who are you? Some nobody that got lucky in a recruitment office back in ‘42,” he tries to ignore the way Steve’s crestfallen demeanor twists the metaphorical hook lodged in his own insides. “It’s over.”

“…What?” Steve says, his face shattering now that he’s on the other side of this breakup. “I- I don’t understand.”

“What’s there not to understand? It’s not working out, and I think we should be professional about it and not have it affect the team.”

“But–” he starts to say just as Tony reaches for the champagne flute, intending to down the contents, keep himself numb for the rest of the night. He’s already made a mental note to have J.A.R.V.I.S. restock his stores of scotch in the coming weeks. He’s going to need it.

Steve’s hand darts out, trying to stop him, to retrieve his flute, but Tony reflexively snatches it back, holding his glass up high in a bid to keep it out of Steve’s reach.

And that’s when Tony sees it.

“Steve?”

“…Yeah?”

He tips his champagne flute slightly, shifting its contents. “There’s a ring at the bottom of this glass.”

“Yeah well… If I could just have that back…” Steve leans over to try to extract the glass from the other man’s possession once again, but Tony continues to hold it aloft.

“Why is there a ring at the bottom of this glass?”

Steve’s reply is bitter. “I think we both know why, but um... we could just forget it, okay? You’ve made it pretty clear – in excruciating detail – what your answer is.”

Tony is quiet for a beat, then: “…Yes.”

“What?”

“My answer is Yes.” he says, drinking the champagne low to fish the ring from the glass. He notes a fingerprint engraved across the inner surface, and suddenly all those late morning runs make sense. Slipping it on, he finds it to be a little big but nothing that can’t be resized.

“Jesus Christ, Tony, you can’t just go on a long, unnecessarily-hurtful tirade about my shortcomings when it comes to you and then turn around and– and… I don’t even know what your game is,” Steve remarks angrily. “If I’m really so terrible to you, why would you want to marry me?”

“Yeah. Funny story that. I was sure you were breaking up with me, so I thought I’d dump you first.”

“Wait. What?”

“Well, we both forgot our anniversary,” Tony explains, and hearing it aloud sounds silly to his own ear, “and then you were acting strange all week–”

“I was acting strange?” Steve knocks one hand against his chest in surprise. “You were the one who kept talking about running away to Ireland to live off the land and become sheep herders, like my forebears before me, which… that’s a stereotype, and you’re probably thinking of Scotland anyway. I’m pretty sure they have more sheep than people there.”

“And how could you not want to follow me into the ultimate escapist fantasy.”

“You’d hate being a sheep herder. Too much dung and not enough WiFi. Plus, you hate wool. Too scratchy,” he points out.

“We would have raised only the finest of Merino sheep.”

“That’s beside the point. Back to the main issue,” Steve stares him down. “You thought I was going to break up with you so you thought you’d what? Get the drop on me?”

Tony leans back, stroking his chin nervously. “That wasn’t my first choice, but I tried everything else–”

“Everything except talking to me.”

“And how would that have gone over? Please Steve, please don’t break my heart? I’ll cry; you know I will,” he says in a mimicry of heartbreak, clutching at his chest in mock earnestness before dropping the act altogether. “Yeah, if you really wanted out, I’m not about to guilt you into being with me. I’m too old to want someone who has to force themselves to touch me out of pity.”

“So, you thought the mature thing to do would be to beat me to it.”

“Admittedly, not my finest hour,” Tony allows, tipping his head to one side in thought. “And granted taking me out on a nice date just to dump me would have been unnecessarily cruel and also wholly out of character for you now that I’m thinking about it.”

“Yeah… yeah, it would be.”

He sighs, pulling the ring off his finger and sliding it across the table towards Steve with his right index finger. “I understand if you’ve changed your mind.” Tony wouldn’t want to marry himself either, not after that performance.

Steve covers Tony’s outstretched hand still holding the ring with his own. “Tony, I love you. When I first woke up in this time, I was lost. I couldn’t see a way forward nor could I imagine myself ever feeling at home here,” he says, his thumb rubbing a comforting circle into Tony’s, “and then I met you, and… and you gave me a home, both physically and emotionally. Even when nothing else makes sense in this life we lead, what I feel for you always will. You’re my one constant, my anchor in the storm. I will always come home to you. I want to marry you – have wanted to for a while now if I’m being honest – and if you will have me, I would be the luckiest man in the world and will strive every day to make you as happy as you’ve made me. So Tony… sweetheart, will you marry me?”

“Of course I will, Steve. I love you, and the thought of living without you... it would have been a barren existence,” Tony says, choking up, tears threatening to fall if he didn’t do something stat. “Just so you know, I’m not changing my name.”

“I don’t expect–”

“Okay, we can hyphenate,” Tony quickly compromises, allowing Steve to slip the ring back on his finger. He holds his hand out to admire the shine. “But we’re going with Stark-Rogers so I won't have to change my monogrammed towels.”

“Alright sweetheart,” Steve agrees, his smile a mile wide.

“I was thinking an autumn wedding? Thoughts?”

“As long as you’re the groom, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect ceremony,” he says, and Tony nearly melts. Steve rises. “Now, let’s go home so we can have a more private celebration.”

Tony stands as well, interlacing his fingers with his future husband’s. “Lead the way, honey.”

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who recently rewatched the opening scene of Legally Blonde? Also, this was originally called “The Proposal,” but then I realized that might be a tad spoiler-y.


End file.
